


You're missing it

by FeatherHeart



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Drug Use, Good Friend Combeferre, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Inspired by Music, M/M, Musician Grantaire, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 12:06:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15119054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeatherHeart/pseuds/FeatherHeart
Summary: Grantaire finally made it as a musician and while he is playing the last song of his concert, he remembers how his whole life fell apart 5 years ago when Enjolras left.Inspired by Jason Walker - You're missing it





	You're missing it

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I wrote more than 5 years ago. Kind of fitting to publish it now.

**You're missing it  
**

Grantaire couldn’t believe this was really happening. He worked so hard for this and now, finally, he got the chance to play his music at his own concert and people actually came to see and listen to him. Sitting at the piano on stage, he felt both nervous and thrilled. The evening had been amazing and after two encores, there was just one thing left to do.

Enjolras was standing in the crowd and looked up at the love of his life feeling proud and happy for the younger man. He had always believed in Grantaire and seeing his bright eyes shining with excitement made the blonde’s heart leap.

Grantaire caught his lover’s gaze and smiled back at him. In this moment, he thought, life was perfect. After years of struggling he was able to do what he loved with the man he loved by his side. Everything finally felt in place.

The raven-haired man turned to the microphone and announced with excitement: “The last song for tonight is one I have never played before, so I hope you enjoy it”. It was true; he had started writing this song about five years ago, at the hardest time of his life and ever since found himself returning to it several times over the past few years, adding or changing parts, never ready to consider it finished. But now his life was finally everything he ever wanted it to be and he felt it was the right time to let go. With one last smile at the man he loved, he turned back to his piano, started playing the soft melody and sang.

 

**_*_ **

****_It's cold again_  
I do not know what to do  
I need a friend  
But all I really want is you

_*_

5 years ago

Grantaire woke up in the middle of the night. He turned to the other side of the bed only to find it cold and empty. Still drowsy with sleep it took him a moment to realize that it had been like that for a little over a week now and would be for a long time to come. Running a shivering hand through his hair, Grantaire got up to get himself a glass of water from the kitchen, passing Enjolras’ suitcases on the way. He gave them a withering glare, as if that could make them disappear, along with the loneliness they stood for. He reached for his phone, which showed several new messages.

Bahorel [4:38]: Yo, drinks tonight, you better be there!

Joly [5:16]: Hi R! Bossuet, Bahorel and I are going to the Corinth later tonight. Courf and some of the others might join, too. Come join us if you like.

Courf [5:29]: Beer, tonight, no excuses!

Jehan [5:32]: Hey Love, call me if you need someone to talk or just some company. I’m here whenever you need me <3

 Courf [5:53]: R! Stop moping around and get your sexy ass to the meeting! As you know, it starts at 6, as always, so you better already be on your way. And of course you have to come get some drinks with your lovely friends afterwards ;)

Courf [5:54]: Lovely friends meaning us, just to prevent confusion.

Courf [8:02]: You missed the meeting…still time for drinks though!

Right, the meeting. Grantaire let out a humorless laugh. It was the first meeting without Enjolras and nobody could expect him to be there. Nobody except Courfeyrac apparently. He didn’t bother to reply to any of the messages; it was too late anyway, since he slept through it all. And though Jehan’s offer was open-ended, it was almost dawn and he didn’t want to wake the little poet. He didn’t want anybody’s company anyway. All he wanted was the presence of one man, his Apollo, his sun. No messages or missed calls from him though. Grantaire really shouldn’t be surprised that the blond man didn’t keep his promise. It hurt nonetheless.

It had been 3 month ago that his life started to fall apart.

\-------------------------------------

It was a typically warm Californian spring evening. After finishing the rehearsals for the orchestra, Grantaire was on his way to Enjolras’ apartment off campus. They were both studying at Stanford, where they met at the law student’s social activist group. Jehan had bribed him into coming along and Grantaire stuck around just to see the leader of the group speak, and argue with him about his naïve ideas. Before he knew what was happening to him, he fell in love with the blonde god and after some minor initial problems (okay, major problems, but who wants to be a stickler for details), Enjolras eventually started to reciprocate the music student’s feelings. That was almost a year ago and Grantaire still could hardly believe his luck, or, for that matter, Enjolras’ assurances that he did in fact love him.

Enjolras had texted him that he had great news and really needed to see him, so Grantaire hurried down the street with a mixture of excitement and curiosity. In hindsight, worry should have been the feeling to go with, but Grantaire had never been blessed with the gift of foresight, so he made his way to his boyfriend’s apartment completely unprepared.  

As soon as he knocked, the blonde tore open the door and pulled the raven-haired man into a passionate kiss. Surprised by this unusual behavior, Grantaire let himself be pulled into the apartment, where the other man pulled away and smiled at him with bright blue eyes.

“Not that I want to complain, but what brought this on?” Grantaire asked with a smirk.

Enjolras’ voice was excited: “I got a call today!”

“Oh, it’s nice to see people enjoying the small things in life. Although I don’t see how your annoying ringtone alone could cause that much happiness.” Grantaire teased.

“Smartass,” his Apollo said, rolling his eyes fondly. “I did it, I got the internship! The one at the United Nations I was talking about last year?” he added at Grantaire’s questioning look.

“Ah, you mean the one you mentioned applying for once, but never wanted to talk about again after that, because you didn’t think you stood a chance?” he asked, because Enjolras had never given him any details about it.

“The very one.” His boyfriend stated with a content look on his face. “It is an internship at the United Nations in New York. It’s unpaid, but a great opportunity for me. I’ll start 3 weeks after my graduation. Can you believe it? It is a dream come true!” Enjolras exclaimed, hugging him again.

“Congratulations, I am so happy for you!” Grantaire said wholeheartedly. “So, summer in New York it is then?”

“Um…yeah, but not only the summer. It is a yearlong internship, ‘Taire.” And if the blonde felt Grantaire stiffen with shock at that, he only hugged him tighter.

If Grantaire had to pinpoint the exact moment his life began to fall apart, he would probably pick this one, although he didn’t realize it right away.

\------------------------------------- 

Now he was sitting in the living room of his apartment staring at Enjolras’ suitcases in the corner. After Enjolras’ graduation 2 weeks ago the blonde had given up his own apartment and stayed at Grantaire’s for a few days, before going to New York to find a place where he could live for the next year. He only took the essentials with him for the apartment hunt and left his remaining packed stuff at Grantaire’s until he found a place he could move into. He could have left it at Combeferre’s or Courfeyrac’s and the fact that he chose his place made Grantaire happy and hopeful at first: His boyfriend was gone for a year, but they were still together.

Taking a sip of water he shook his head at his own initial naïveté. 

After the news of Enjolras’ impending departure had sunk in, Grantaire decided to go with him. He couldn’t stand the thought to be left behind and since he was a musician, he was sure to find some kind of work for himself in New York. This meant quitting Stanford and losing his scholarship, but he just wanted to be at his lover’s side, no matter the costs. But Enjolras wouldn’t have any of it. He didn’t want Grantaire to give up the degree he had worked for so hard for the last years.

“But you love it here ‘Taire! You love your friends, your studies, your clubs, hell, you even love your job, and they are all here!” the law student had said.

“But I love you most and you won’t be”, was Grantaire’s quiet reply.

At that, the blonde kneeled in front of his sitting boyfriend, took his hands and looked into his eyes with burning sincerity. “I love you too, ‘Taire, more than you probably know. But this is only for a year. We will talk on the phone, we will visit each other and after you finish your degree next year, we can move to New York together, or I will come back to find a job here, who knows what will happen then. But I will not be the reason you gave up on your studies and your life here. I love you and we will make it through the year, trust me!”

And Grantaire did; he really should have known better.

It was not that he believed their relationship would last the year; he was not an idiot and far too realistic for that. Long-distance relationships were doomed, he knew that. It was not Enjolras’ love for him either, because he still couldn’t believe in that. Why would the sun love a blind man after all? What he believed and trusted in was Enjolras’ intention to make it work. His boyfriend was naïve and idealistic after all, enough to really believe that a long-distance relationship could work. Enough to put in the extra effort to make it work for as long as possible, until even an optimist like him had to accept the fact, that their relationship was bound to fail. And fail it would, sooner rather than later, but until then Grantaire trusted Enjolras’ stubborn will to make it work.

This was why it hurt Grantaire so much, that he hadn’t heard from Enjolras in 5 days, despite his promise to call every day. The disappointment tingled in his chest and stung in his eyes and for the first time in a very long time, before he knew what he was doing, he found himself kneeling in front of the cupboard beneath the sink where he hid some bottles filled with comforting liquid.

Ever since he started dating Enjolras, he had been drinking less and less. He didn’t quit, still going for the occasional drunken night out with Bahorel or Courfeyrac. But he stopped drinking alone to drown his sorrows, knowing it upset his boyfriend and not wanting to argue about it every time. The disapproving look and angry remarks Enjolras shot him on the now rare occasion that he woke up with a hangover were enough to force him to let go of the bottle. Though it was not easy, he did not want to fight with the love of his life over “drinking himself to death”, a possibility Enjolras seemed to worry about a lot more than Grantaire himself. And a small voice in the back of his head told him that it was probably for the best, that there was at least one person who cared about his health enough to fight his drinking, since Grantaire was not able nor willing to do it himself.

But Enjolras was not here to fight with him now and he knew that he would not be in the future, no matter what the blonde promised or even possibly believed. He did not know how he could live without his Apollo by his side. His life was a constant dark and Enjolras’ light was his sun guiding him through life. Without him, Grantaire could not survive and he was not sure if he even wanted to. The thoughts of a life alone and Enjolras leaving him behind, forgetting about him, moving on from him needed to be forgotten for as long as possible. So he gathered the remaining bottles and made his way back to the couch to drown every feeling he had.

 

When he woke up it took him a moment to realize where he was. He was lying in his bed, still wearing the same torn sweatpants and shirt he had when he started drinking. A look at his alarm clock told him that that had been more than 24 hours ago. He didn’t remember when he stopped drinking, but it must have been quite a while ago, since he was barely hung over anymore. There was still a light headache, so he decided to go take a shower to wake up properly.

When he came out of the bathroom, he noticed a glass of water and some aspirin on his nightstand. Grantaire knew that he never had the foresight to prepare for the next morning, so that meant Enjolras had returned while he was sleeping off his hangover. This would probably result in another one of their fights, but right now he could not be happier.

He quickly got dressed and walked out of the bedroom to find the love of his life sitting on the couch in the living room with his back towards him. He looked like he always did, his favorite red mug with steaming hot coffee in one hand, the newspaper in the other as he was waiting for Grantaire to wake up. Enjolras was a creature of habit. He always used the same mug when he was at Grantaire’s and he always sat in the same position on the couch, both feet on the coffee table, so that there was enough space for Grantaire to join him and put his head on his lover’s lap. But right now the raven-haired man hesitated, waiting for the inevitable fight to happen, before they could kiss and make up again. Another habit they followed whenever he had too much to drink.

“Hey, you’re back,” Grantaire said to get his boyfriend’s attention.

The blonde man turned around and Grantaire was surprised that he did not scowl at him like he usually did when the music student woke up late with a hangover. Instead, his face was carefully blank. Something was wrong.

“Hi, you’re finally awake,” Enjolras said, giving his boyfriend a smile. Something was very wrong.

“How long have you been back? You should have woken me up,” he said, ignoring this nagging feeling.

“I haven’t been here that long. I arrived around noon, came here to see if you’re awake, which you were not. So I went to see ‘Ferre and returned half an hour ago, grabbed the newspaper and made coffee,” he said, raising his red mug for emphasis. “There is some left for you in the kitchen,” he added with another smile.

“And you cleaned up a bit, thank you”, Grantaire tried to stir the conversation in the right direction. He needed this done with. He needed Enjolras to get mad, yell at him and forgive him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Enjolras answered patiently. “Come join me on the couch”

“I’m sorry I drank too much yesterday,” he tried again, not moving.

Enjolras put down his mug and got up. “Like I said, don’t worry about it. You’re a grown up person, so you can do what you want. It doesn’t matter.”

 _It doesn’t matter? What happened that it doesn’t matter to you anymore? Get angry, please! Yell at me like you always do. Try to turn me into someone better, someone more suitable for you, do something, anything. But don’t just stand there looking at me with that blank expression. Please! Show me that you still care! I need you to care!_ – is what Grantaire wanted to shout.

“Okay,” is what came out quietly instead. Not knowing what to do, he looked around the room. Enjolras’ gaze followed Grantaire’s to the corner where his suitcases were supposed to be. And while the raven-haired man’s eyes lingered there, he felt the blonde’s steely blue ones wandering back to his face, imploring, before they closed off again.

“I took my stuff to Combeferre’s; he’ll take me to the airport later.” Enjolras’ explained matter-of-factly.

“So you’re not staying for some days until your internship starts? I thought that was the plan?”

“No, I won’t.”

Grantaire met Enjolras’ eyes to read his expression, but there was nothing. “What is this?” he asked, trying to keep the rising panic out of his voice.

“Grantaire…,” his full name made him flinch, and he tried to remember when Enjolras last used it. It must have been before they started dating.

“What is this Enj? Are you breaking up with me?”

This caused the blonde man to hurry to Grantaire’s side, take his hands and give him an apologetic look full of passion and worry. It was the same expression he had when he first told him he loved him and it caused Grantaire’s heart to beat faster.

“Yes…yes I am.”

The blonde’s words hit him like a punch to the chest and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. He pulled his hands from Enjolras’ and clenched them into fists, trying to stop the stinging in his eyes by letting his nails dig into his palms. “Why?” he whispered barely audible.

“Grantaire –”

“No, scratch that! I know why, I know I’m a major fuck up and –“

“NO! No, Grantaire, it’s not you. It’s –” Enjolras exclaimed, only to be interrupted by Grantaire again.

“Oh please, don’t give me that fucking ‘it’s not you it’s me’ speech now!” Grantaire was finally angry.

“That’s not what I was trying to say. I’m doing this for us, ‘Taire,” the blond said, pleading with his eyes to be understood.

“For us? How could this possibly be good ‘for us’? If you break up with me, there will be no ‘us’ anymore, Enj.”

“But if we stay together, this long-distance thing is going to destroy us”, Enjolras explained quietly.

It did nothing to calm the musician down though. “So you don’t even want to try? You just give up? Just like this?”

“Don’t act like that! You don’t even believe that long-distance relationships could work, you said so yourself.”

 _But you do, at least I thought you did. So why don’t you want to try_ with me _? You just don’t care anymore, I should have known. You finally realized that you’re better off without me. But I need you!_ None of these thoughts dared leave his lips, so he settled for pleading. “Please Enj, you were the one who said we would make it work. We will talk on the phone, write mails and visit each other every now and then. That is what you said, don’t you remember?”

“I had a lot of time thinking about this in the last few days. And we have to be realistic here. We will both be busy; there won’t be a lot of time to talk on the phone. And how will we visit each other? My internship is unpaid and my parents cut me off after my graduation. I have to make do with what I inherited from my grandparents and I am lucky if that lasts for the year. You barely make enough with your music teaching jobs to cover your own expenses, so how are we going to pay for the plane tickets? Let’s face it; we will not be able to see each other for one whole year!”

“Then I’ll go with you. Just please, please don’t leave me like that”, Grantaire begged with tears in his eyes.

“We have been over this. I won’t be the reason you drop out of Stanford.”

“We will figure something out then!”

“No, ‘Taire. You know as well as I do how this is going to end. We will desperately try to make it work somehow, get frustrated with each other and eventually destroy everything we had.”

“So you decided to just go ahead, spare us the time and just destroy it right away…”

“No, I’m trying to save it. I don’t want to lose you ‘Taire, so I have to set you free. It’s the best for both of us. That way, we won’t grow to hate each other because we feel abandoned by the other one,” he hesitated and then turned to leave, “I should go.”

“Please, please don’t do this. I don’t know what to do without you. I cannot live without you”, Grantaire begged, his tears now streaming down his face.

“I have to, I’m sorry. Maybe after your graduation, if we are lucky, we will be able to find our way back to each other again. But for now, I have to go. Promise me to make the best of your remaining studies, I know you will make me proud”, Enjolras whispered, sparing one last glance at the broken raven-haired man. For a brief moment, there was a flood of emotions washing over his face, before it was carefully blank again. “Goodbye Grantaire.” With that, he turned around, walked out of the apartment and closed the door quietly behind himself.

Grantaire looked after him crying, sobbing and not sure what to do anymore. He was furious, hurt and desperate. Enjolras was gone. He really left him behind, just like that. He knew that it was bound to fail, but he had trusted Enjolras to at least try.

All his anger built up in him and he grabbed the red mug, ready to throw it at the door, as if destroying Enjolras’ mug could somehow destroy everything he felt right now. With shaking hands he squeezed the ceramic as if to make the blond man feel all the pain he just caused him. He wanted to make it shatter to pieces, like Enjolras had done with his heart. But he couldn’t; he loved him. Instead, he took the mug to the kitchen, cleaned it and put it back into the cupboard like he always did. As if this was just another day and Enjolras would be back the next day to use it again. He wouldn’t, though. Not for a year. Not ever.

*

 __  
**Where have you been  
I haven't seen you for so long**

_*_  
  


3 weeks after Enjolras left

Without his sun, Grantaire was a blind man living in the darkness, withering away. He did not know what he could do, nor did he find the strength to get himself to do anything but lying in bed, drinking, staring at the ceiling and hoping that the love of his life would change his mind. His friends stopped by every now and then to get him to eat something or keep him company, but though he appreciated it, he knew that he was not good company and would prefer to be left alone.

They didn’t do him that favor though. It was almost as if they took turns to visit him, so there was not a day he was left alone. Bahorel and Feuilly showed up every other evening, bringing some movie they claimed Grantaire absolutely had to watch. Eponine came around whenever she could and would drink with him, listen to him on the rare occasions he wanted to talk or just tell him about her day. Bossuet and Joly showed up occasionally, sometimes with Musichetta in tow sometimes without her and while Bossuet shared funny stories about his latest mishaps, Joly usually went to clean up Grantaire’s mess and told him how dangerous his drinking habits were. Even Marius and Cosette visited him, but as much as he loved them, their sweet love which was showing in every look and every small gesture was too much for him to bear.

Courfeyrac stopped by frequently and Jehan rarely left his apartment. Even Combeferre showed up a few times and knowing that they had never really been close, Grantaire was very grateful that the new leader of Enjolras’ group took the time to come see him. They never talked much but Grantaire knew that the usually calm man was worried, so he always tried to show his best behavior when Combeferre was present.

Grantaire did not want to think about what happened and why exactly his life changed so dramatically. He did not dare to think about his former lover and where he was right now. He did not want to have to realize that he was alone now. Somewhere deep inside, he seemed to harbor the hope that if he did not think about it, it might not be real. His friends didn’t mention Enjolras as if they were afraid to open up wounds they knew could not even have begun to heal yet.

One afternoon he was lying in bed, as usual, when Jehan opened the door to ask if Grantaire wanted some tea. He didn’t want anything, but in the eyes of the poet he saw the helplessness of his gentle soul and understood that he needed to do something for his friend to not feel utterly useless. So he decided to indulge him and even climbed out of bed to give the couch in the living room a try.

Jehan took that as a positive sign and chatted away happily while rummaging in the kitchen. “I think we’ll have to do the dishes later; there are barely any clean ones left.”

“That might be Bossuet’s fault, he tried to help Joly last time they were here and it ended in a small catastrophe.”

“Yeah I heard about that. Joly dragged him to the hospital afterwards just to make sure he would not die of major blood loss caused by ceramic shards. Courf made sure he only got paper cups at the café for the last few days, for his own safety, as he put it.”

Grantaire had to laugh at their silly friend’s shenanigans and Jehan was visibly proud when he emerged from the kitchen with a tray in his hands. He went on talking about things that happened lately, but Grantaire was not able to listen anymore, his stare fixed on the red mug Jehan was moving from the tray onto the coffee table.

“Not that one!” Grantaire all but yelled, startling the little poet in his movement. “We can’t use that one, it’s…,” he stopped himself.

“I’m sorry, what is it? What did I do wrong?” his friend asked, worry clear in his voice.

Grantaire couldn’t explain it without sounding stupid. Ever since he started dating Enjolras, he always left the mug untouched, just in case his boyfriend came over unannounced. And he often did back then. The music student didn’t know what exactly it was that stopped him from using it now, knowing that there was no chance of the blonde love of his life coming through the door again. Maybe he still hoped - somewhere deep inside - that this was all just a cruel joke, or that Enjolras would change his mind and come running back to him. Or he just was not ready to accept the fact, that the only light in his life was gone and keeping the mug unused in his cupboard prevented him from facing the truth.

Whatever it was, he did not know how to explain any of this to Jehan, so he just settled for a quiet “It was his” and the poet brought it back to the kitchen with a pensive look and without another word.

*

 

4 months after Enjolras left

Over the next weeks, Grantaire’s friends kept their visits up. Even though they came less frequently now, Les Amis had not forgotten him and still tried to get him back to the world of the living. Bahorel and Feuilly still tried to get him to watch every goddamn movie ever made and Eponine still didn’t have enough of his bad mood. Jehan all but moved in and Courfeyrac was a constant presence, too. Once the semester started again, Combeferre showed up at least once a week to bring him notes for lectures he missed and though Grantaire had no idea where he got those, he didn’t want to ask, fearing it could lead to a discussion about why the ever growing stack of paper remained untouched.

He was wondering when their efforts would cease. Surely it could not take long for them to realize that Grantaire was a lost cause who didn’t even want to keep on living in the darkness his live had become. And then they would leave him alone and he would finally have his peace and quiet to drink himself into oblivion.

One evening about four months after Enjolras had left, Courfeyrac and Combeferre came over after the meeting. Grantaire had stopped attending them and Jehan stayed with him most of the time. They never talked about it and Grantaire was very grateful for that; he didn’t want to explain the reason for his absence, especially since everybody knew it without him having to say it out loud. 

The four of them were sitting in Grantaire’s living room and talked about the newest gossip when Courfeyrac glanced towards his beautiful piano. “R, when was the last time you played something for us? I’d love to hear you play again.”

He hadn’t touched any of his instruments since the day Enjolras left. There was something inside of him that stopped him. How could he enjoy or even produce beautiful music, when every beautiful thing in his life was gone. Music was feeling, love, joy, sadness and so many emotions more that he wanted to erase from his life. “I’m not feeling like it.”

“Oh come on Love, please do it for us?” Jehan begged.

Grantaire sighed and made his way over to the piano. He had been such a burden to his friends over the last few weeks, so who was he to refuse the little poet anything? He just couldn’t say no to him.

He started tentatively pressing one key as if to see whether it would still make a sound, half expecting it to stay mute, like everything else in his life felt lately. But it sounded just like it always did and maybe that was even worse. Reluctantly he added some soft variations while becoming familiar with the keys again. It was just like he remembered it from the time, when Enjolras used to sit beside him on the small bench, watching him play, listening in awe. The blonde used to love listening to Grantaire. He used to love Grantaire. The musician closed his eyes and hesitated for a moment, before turning the music into something faster, more desperate, to fit his mood. He let all the hurt and despair he had bottled up inside pour through his fingers onto the keys, creating a melody that made him shiver with sadness. The last moments with Enjolras replayed in his head and he felt tears stream down his face, when he recalled the blank look on the other man’s face just before he turned around to leave.

When Grantaire opened his eyes again, he realized that he had stopped playing and his friends were looking at him with different shades of sadness, worry and hope on their faces.

“R, that was amazing!” said Jehan and wiped away a tear that was rolling down his face.

“Absolutely R, I can’t wait for the next concert with your orchestra! There is one at the Fall Festival next month, right?” Courfeyrac exclaimed excitedly, trying to lighten up the mood.

Grantaire hesitated. “I guess so, but I…I don’t –”

“Grantaire, stop it!”

Everybody turned to Combeferre to see the stern look on his usually gentle face.

“We stood by and tried to be there for you, hoping that would be enough for you to get over the break up. But all you are doing is sitting at home, wallowing in self-pity and drinking yourself to death. I accepted this during summer, figuring you needed time and a certain level of self-destruction to cope, but enough is enough, I won’t watch anymore.”

“’Ferre –“

“I’m not done yet. You are going back to university next week. You will attend every class, rehearse with your orchestra and start teaching your students again. You will go through the motions until they start feeling like your life again, until you find joy again in what you do. He left you behind to allow you to finish your degree and unfold all your talents he probably admired more than anyone. So don’t throw yourself away R. He believes in you and so do we.”

The last words were spoken with a kindness that caused Grantaire’s eyes to fill with tears again. Jehan joined him on the bench to hug him and when the raven-haired man looked at Courfeyrac, he saw him swallow before the usual bright smile tentatively returned to his face.

“Thank you ‘Ferre,” Grantaire managed eventually, “but it is not that easy.” He knew he couldn’t go on like this forever and Combeferre’s rebuke confirmed once again that he could not keep doing this to his friends. But he already stayed away from his old life so long and alienated so many people that it felt impossible to return. “I haven’t been at work or rehearsals in months, without even asking to be excused; they probably don’t even want me there anymore. And I am way behind in my classes, I won’t be able to keep my scholarship because I missed too much of the semester already to get enough credits.”

“Don’t worry R, we took care of that. Jehan talked to the music school and explained to them that you are sick and would not be able to make it to work for a while. They found someone to take over your lessons for the time being, but apparently you are sorely missed by your students.”

Grantaire’s mouth fell open as his eyes wandered to see his poetic friend looking at the floor with a blush, but before he could say something Combeferre went on.

“Courfeyrac met with your conductor and told him the same –“

“I even offered to fill in for you, but he might not have recognized my obvious talent.” This caused a smile on Grantaire’s face. “Anyway, he said you should come to the rehearsals again once you feel better; and don’t worry about the kid that fills in for you, he doesn’t get anywhere near your genius. His words, not mine. Well, something along those lines at least.”

Grantaire chuckled, which caused a proud smile to appear on Courfeyrac’s face and Combeferre took the lead again.

“I went to talk to your teachers and convinced them to give you some extra work to make up for the missed time. The semester did not begin too long ago, so don’t worry about having missed too much. It’s nothing you can’t catch up on. And the one or two works you already had to submit might not match up to your usual standards, but since you’re supposedly sick, Feuilly and I thought our admittedly limited knowledge of your field of studies would do to keep up the pretense until you are back on track.”

Grantaire was dumbstruck. He didn’t expect his friends to care so much to do all this for him. Overwhelmed by disbelief and deep gratitude he went to hug the three of them and made a mental note to have some popcorn ready for Feuilly when he showed up next time with another terrible movie.

“I…I don’t know what to say…I cannot thank you enough guys. You are by far more than I deserve.” He managed with wet eyes.

Jehan gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek. “Don’t mention it, Love. You would have done the same for any of us.”

They spent the rest of the evening talking about tasks Grantaire had to do and how he should go about easing back into his former life until Courfeyrac yawned loudly and announced that he had to leave and Combeferre better stopped rambling on if he didn’t want to be left to walk all the way home.

When Courfeyrac and Jehan were busy carrying their used glasses into the kitchen, Grantaire took the chance to thank Combeferre again. The gentle man put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him with a reassuring smile. “We know how much you love what you are doing and we could not let you jeopardize it just because you had momentarily forgotten.” He hesitated for a moment as if pondering whether to say something or not, before he went on. “He wouldn’t want that either. He was always so proud of what you are doing and how happy it made you. If it wasn’t for that, he would have never been able to leave you here.”

Combeferre said that with so much sincerity that Grantaire began to wonder if it was really possible that Enjolras had left him because he genuinely loved him. He was Enjolras’ best friend after all and above that he was never wrong, so if Combeferre said something like that, it had to be true, right?

The musician recalled Enjolras’ reassuring words: “ _And maybe after your graduation, if we are lucky, we will be able to find our way back to each other again”_ and “ _I know you will make me proud”._

With Combeferre’s gentle squeeze on his shoulder, he decided that he would do exactly that, make Enjolras proud. He would work his hardest to make the best of his degree in order to chase the light that the love of his life had left burning at the end of the tunnel. He would make him proud; he would be able to look Enjolras in the eyes again after graduation. And if he was really lucky, he could be with him again.

Before he could say anything else to Combeferre, Courfeyrac came running into the living room again and shoved a huge stack of sheet music into his arms. “I might have left your conductor under the impression that the only thing keeping you sane while you were home sick was rehearsing your parts for the Fall Festival. So you better start working if you don’t want to prove me a liar next week. Have fun R!”

And with that they were gone and left Grantaire to put his new resolve into action.

*

 

**_I guess you're gone  
You're really gone_ **

 

_*_

Graduation or 1 year after Enjolras left

He had worked so hard for this and now the day was finally there. His graduation day had finally arrived and he was terribly nervous. Jehan and Eponine helped him get ready (though it shouldn’t be too hard to figure out which hole in the gown was meant for which part of the body) and tried to ease his nervousness.

“Come on Love, calm down. There is nothing left for you to worry about. You passed your exams, finished your projects and even got an amazing job. Now everything you have to do is let us drag you to campus, walk on stage, grab your diploma, throw your hat and celebrate with your friends. I’m sure Courf has an amazing evening planned, it’s his graduation, too, after all.” Jehan squeaked excitedly.

“Yeah, and don’t forget Cosette and Marius. I can’t believe we’re free at last.”

“But you did it R, I’m so proud of you!” Eponine exclaimed. “I even brought some fancy champagne to celebrate. And no, don’t even start with me, it’s just one bottle for the three of us and you earned it.”

After his decision to work hard for his degree, Grantaire even forced himself to stop drinking. He still drank the occasional beer on a night out, but he didn’t once get drunk ever since. His friends all thought he finally developed a healthy attitude towards alcohol, but he merely did it because Enjolras would have hated to see him drunk all the time. It was as if the memory of the man he loved had as much power over him as the man himself when they were still together. Maybe even more so.

In fact, it was everything for Enjolras, everything he did. The idealistic man wanted him to graduate, to make the most of his talents and so he did, always hoping that was good enough for the light to return to his life again. He spend most of his time studying, working and rehearsing for the orchestra and he even started going to the meetings of Les Amis again, if only to meet his friends and maybe help out with minor tasks.

Grantaire was good at what he did, he turned out to be one of the best in his year and some weeks before graduation he received an offer to become a member of the San Francisco Symphony. Upon hearing this, his friends threw him an impromptu party and nobody doubted that he would accept the offer. They all knew that it was his dream job after all. Or had been, before Enjolras left him.

Now all he wanted was to be with him again and he hoped that this dream might come true. After all, Enjolras’ internship was almost over and maybe there was another chance for them. He did not care where they would go or what kind of job he would get, as long as he got his sun back in his life. He had lived in darkness for a year now, just following the dim light that guided him from afar.

But he couldn’t tell his friends. As far as they knew, he was over the break-up and functioning on his own now, even enjoying life maybe. So he could not tell them that the offer was still unanswered in one of his desk drawers and his degree was worthless for him. He was not sure if his friends were really completely clueless though. He couldn’t help but notice Jehan’s sad expression whenever Grantaire reached around Enjolras’ red mug in the cupboard or how everybody seemed to avoid mentioning their former leader around him. He didn’t ask whether they had heard from him or how he was doing and they didn’t tell him in return. It just left him wondering how much they knew about the state he was really in, but nobody ever brought it up and he was grateful for that.

Most of Grantaire’s graduation day passed by in a blissful trance. He had no idea how Eponine and Jehan managed to get him to the ceremony in time, but he remembered being handed the diploma and walking off the stage to be crushed by the arms of his friends. They took him to the Musain where Courfeyrac had organized what the musician was sure had been an amazing party. He probably laughed with his friends, danced to terrible music and cheered when Courfeyrac and Jehan finally got their shit together and made out on the dancefloor.

What he could remember clearly though was the way his eyes kept wandering around campus or towards the door of the Musain as if expecting to spot a familiar light. He told himself that it was stupid to think his Apollo would show up on graduation day on a white horse and take him away to live happily ever after. Enjolras didn’t like horses after all. But he could not deny that, somewhere deep inside, this (or some less cutesy version of it) was exactly what he had hoped for.

Taking a sip of his beer and looking at the door again, he felt Combeferre’s hand on his shoulder. “He won’t come,” was all the guide said in a grave voice, before squeezing his shoulder and returning to the others.

*

 __  
**So long ago**  
You told me you'd never leave  
But do you know  
Things have changed so suddenly  
And here I am  
I am moving on without you  
Without you  


 

_*_

2 Years after Enjolras left

After Enjolras didn’t show up for his graduation, Grantaire refused to let this break him. He accepted the offer and became a member of the San Francisco Symphony, toured the country and even the world and went on with his life. After every concert Enjolras missed, every birthday party of their friends he failed to show up to, every deceived hope, Grantaire told himself the same thing: I won’t break. Everything was working out without ups and downs, though his life was still missing the sun. It was a little bit darker than before, but he got used to following the dim light at the horizon.

For the disinterested observer the musician lead a great life with many joys. He had an amazing group of friends who stuck together more often than not. He was working in a job that he loved, living in a city he knew and enjoyed. He was financially independent and he could pick any lover, if he wanted one.

But spring turned into summer, summer faded into fall. Jehan’s and Eponine’s graduation came and went, parties were prepared and celebrated. To Grantaire it all felt the same. There were no bad times in his life, but neither were there good ones. Something was missing and though he was not sure what he was waiting for anymore, he just kept going, trying to live up to the one mantra he repeated over and over in his head. _I know you will make me proud_.

*

 __  
**And now the years have passed us by**  
And I still do not know why  
Before you tried  
You chose to quit  
So where are you tonight  
You could make everything right  
But instead  
You're missing it  
You're missing it

 

_*_

Grantaire kept telling himself, that he was living on his own now, independent and free. But deep inside he knew that it was only that faint hope that kept him going. It was the hope that Enjolras had kindled in him when he left, that maybe someday they might be together again. He didn’t live for himself anymore, didn’t live in the here and now. He lived for a possible future with Enjolras.

He was not ready to admit it though. Was not ready to face a world without that faint light at the horizon. So he avoided thinking about Enjolras and still never talked about him with his friends.

But with every passing day his old nagging doubts grew stronger, beginning to overpower the hope. There were voices in his head that told him what he already knew, that it was pointless to hope. Enjolras didn’t care for him anymore, in fact had never cared at all. He took the first opportunity he got to get away from Grantaire and would never return again. If there had ever been hope, he would have been back a long time ago. There had been many chances for the idealist to return, but he had not yet and he never would. He had forgotten about his former boyfriend and was living happily without wasting a thought on him.

One day in late November, Grantaire decided that he needed to know the truth. He picked up his phone and called the number he still knew by heart. The familiarity of it made him smile, if only for a moment before a female voice told him, that the number had been disconnected. He realized that he didn’t know anything about Enjolras’ life anymore, not even where he lived or how he was, and it left a stinging sensation in his heart. The musician wondered if he was the only one who got excluded by the man he loved.

After the next meeting, he waited for the rest to leave, until only Courfeyrac and Combeferre were left at the Musain. He hesitated for a short moment, but then went to approach them.

“R my friend, you’re still here? Fancy grabbing a drink with me?” Courfeyrac asked cheerfully.

“Thanks Courf, but I have an early rehearsal tomorrow. Actually, I wanted to talk to you guys.”

At that Combeferre looked up from his notes and raised an eyebrow. It was not often that Grantaire approached him, so he probably knew that it was something important. Well, it was Combeferre, so he _definitely_ knew that it was something important. “Of course R, what’s going on?”

Grantaire paused again to take a deep breath and tried hard to keep his composure under his friends’ inquiring eyes. “Do you know...I mean…it’s been a while, so I was wondering…how is he doing?”

He could not bring himself to say his Apollo’s name, but from the thoughtful look on the others’ faces he knew that he didn’t have to. Combeferre and Courfeyrac looked at each other for a second before the former reluctantly spoke up. “He is doing well. After his internship he got a job at the United Nations and as you can imagine he is quite content with that.”

For a moment Grantaire considered leaving it at that, but there was a part of him that needed to know. So with his stare glued to the floor he asked the question that had occupied his mind for a long time: “Did he ever ask about me?”

From Courfeyrac’s pained expression, the musician knew that he didn’t want to hear the answer. But the question was out there and Combeferre answered it in a low voice. “No.”

And with that, the dim light at the horizon faded away.

*

 __  
**You're missing it  
All the things that I have done**

 

_*_

Grantaire’s world went dark. He ignored Courfeyrac’s attempts to talk to him and went straight home. If it was raining, Grantaire didn’t feel it. He didn’t see or hear anything, lost in his thoughts. All he could think about was how he had spent the last two years of his life trying to live up to the expectations of a man who had long stopped caring. Everything he had done was for him. Everything he was, he was because of him. Without him, he had nowhere to go, no direction to move in. Without him, there was no light he could follow. He was finally lost in the dark.

Not knowing what else he could do, the raven-haired man went for the only option he knew to express his feelings. He sat down at his piano and started playing and singing a soft tune. _“How did I miss something? When did you decide in your heart that we aren't worth the fight?”_ Those were the questions he was suppressing ever since Enjolras had left him, too afraid to face the painful truth. The love of his life had not given up the fight; he had never been fighting in the first place. _“Try again and show me every emotion that you have, all the rest, whatever's left, that's all I ask...”_ It was time for Grantaire to acknowledge to himself that there have never been any emotions. He had forced Enjolras to raise false hopes in him by telling his sun that he couldn’t live without him. He had been living a lie and was forced to realize that now. _“I know it's time I live my life without you”._ Combeferre had been honest to him to make it possible for him to go on with his life. _“They say you're never coming back for me...But I would give up everything that I am for you for just one chance at what we had”._

And while bearing his heart in song, he realized that he won’t be able to go on. What was the point in living in the dark?

Grantaire didn’t know how long he had stared at the piano after realizing that his life had finally gone to pieces. It didn’t really matter; there was no hurry and nothing to be done. He would have to life with the emptiness from now on, withering away in the darkness until it was over. For a second, his mind switched to the rooftop of his apartment building or the razor blades in his bathroom, but he condemned this thought as soon as it surfaced. He had friends who cared about him, there was no way he would do this to them.

But he could allow himself to make living in the darkness easier. If he could not stop living, he could at least stop caring. So he threw on his jacket and made his way to the shadier part of town, where he knew he’d find what he needed now. A long time ago he had taken this path and though it had only been for a very short period of time, his feet still carried him there without thinking.

Back in his apartment, he went through the familiar preparations and then watched the needle tear a hole into his pale skin, waiting to slide into sweet nothingness.

*

 

**_You're missing it  
Everything I have become_ **

 

_*_

2.5 years after Enjolras left

Grantaire’s world remained dark, but he did not care anymore. He missed rehearsals until the Symphony eventually kicked him out. He didn’t go to meetings anymore and left the apartment only to get his supplies. His friends were worried, but he didn’t care. The one person that really mattered didn’t care about him, so why should he?

He did not feel anything anymore and though it was not that different from the situation he was in before, it was so much better now. He did not have a light to guide him through life, but he didn’t mind anymore. He did not want to get anywhere anyway. There was no last hope to chase, no joy, and no pain. Nothing mattered anymore, least of all himself.

Courfeyrac tried to talk to him, Combeferre and Joly offered him help and Jehan begged him to accept it, but the raven-haired man saw no point. Eponine got angry and yelled at him, asking if there was nothing left he wanted for himself, no dream he wanted to come true before giving up. But Grantaire had only shrugged and went home to get the next shot.

But sometimes, very rarely, there were days when he started to care again. He became aware of how much he hurt his friends and something inside of him told him that this could not be the end of it, that he could not go on like this. He hated those days. Those days, he took more than usual and let the hallucinations his creative mind granted him make up for the pain of caring.

About six month after he first turned to the needle, it was one of those days again. His mind screamed for him to stop louder than it had ever done before. Combeferre had asked him how Enjolras would feel if he knew about it, probably in a deperate attempt to make him reconsider. Grantaiire contemplated this for a moment, wonderin if Enjolras would care. For a moment he pictured his righteous fury, but it hurt to even think about him. So he went through the familiar routine and drifted off into oblivion. 

When he opened his eyes again, he had no idea how much time had passed, but there was Enjolras kneeling beside him. It was a well-known situation and Grantaire was never surprised to see him. After all those years of dreaming about his blond sun, it was only appropriate for him to haunt most of his hallucinations.

What he was surprised by were his own feelings. He was usually happy to see his image, telling him how much he loved him, kissing him and trying to stop him from ever leaving again, though he knew it was in vain. But this was the first time he felt his stomach clench with something else than ardent longing. He couldn’t pinpoint it until his Apollo started to speak.

“’Taire, what are you doing? Are you trying to kill yourself? How can you do this?”

It was anger. Seeing the man who left him so long ago made him angry for the first time.

“Sure, now you show up and try to stop me? Don’t pretend you care, you didn’t back then and you don’t care now,” Grantaire yelled furiously.

“Of course I care! I –“, the blond man tried, but Grantaire didn’t want to hear it.

“If that was true you wouldn’t have left. You would have come back for me.” Grantaire managed, his voice going cold.

“I left to help you and it is for the same reason that I came back now.”  Enjolras said, sounding soft and desperate.

“Oh this is great. How fitting, Apollo as my voice of reason. The one who fooled me into stopping my drinking appears now to fool me into taking care of myself again. Good job brain, really! But can we just go back to kissing and loving each other as usual? I had actually planned on enjoying this shot.”

“I…yes, if that is what you want, yes! But I beg you, let me help you! Do it for me, please!” Apollo pleaded and reached out for him.

This was it. Somehow Grantaire knew that this was the moment he had to decide whether to sink or swim. He could give in to his treacherous mind, take the offered hand and allow his sun to guide him once again from afar. He could allow the pointless hope to make him try to turn his life around. He could once again light his life with the dim flame at the horizon, chasing it until it would inevitably fade away once more when he had to face reality again.

Or he could finally turn away and face reality on his own terms. He could be his own guide, maybe not as glorious as his Apollo, but indefinitely more tangible. He could stop reaching for the sun and settle for something real. Something less bright, but much more solid. Something that would endure a storm and that he could call his own life.

“No, you have done enough. I don’t want your help!” Grantaire yelled, suddenly making up his mind. “I don’t want anything from you. In fact, I just want you gone.”

He closed his eyes and when he opened them again, Enjolras had vanished. There was nothing left but relief and resolve.

He fished his phone out of his pocket, dialed a number and held his breath until a familiar voice answered.

“’Ferre, I think I need help.”

*

 __  
**So wave goodbye**  
Cause you can never get it back  
No you can't  
You really can't

 

_*_

1 year later

Withdrawal and recovery were hard and there were many days he thought that he could not do it. He almost slipped several times, but his friends were there to help him through it. It was a long way and Grantaire went it one small step after another. Sometimes pausing, sometimes breaking down and leaning on helping hands, but never going back.

After a while it became easier and the scars on his arms began to fade. He eventually learned to handle his instruments again and started writing songs to cope with the cravings. His friends came to visit regularly and Jehan once again moved in with him, just as a temporary loan, as Courfeyrac put it. He began settling into the rhythm and before he knew it, a year had passed.

Courfeyrac had been eager to celebrate him being one year clean, but Grantaire was not sure if a party was the best idea. He wasn’t afraid to relapse, but if he was honest with himself, he did not feel like celebrating. He was far from settled after all. The musician didn’t have a job and he needed to figure out what to do with his life.

But Courfeyrac, always the eager one, had to do something and therefore invited all of their friends for coffee and self-baked cake (by Grantaire and Jehan, not Courfeyrac obviously) to Grantaire’s living room. It was a great day, they laughed, joked and reminisced about old times, and when the evening drew closer to its end, Grantaire was content and positive that he could manage life.

Jehan stayed behind and once the others were gone he got up to clean the coffee table. “You stay here and enjoy the rest of the evening; I’m going to do the dishes.”

When Grantaire turned to help him, the poet beamed at him, “Finally, Love. I am so happy for you.”

The younger man held the red mug in his hand, which apparently had been in use all day without Grantaire paying it any heed. They had never talked about it properly, but Jehan instinctively knew what it represented for Grantaire. The musician had always kept it clean in the front row of his cupboard, unwilling to abandon the hope for Enjolras’ return. For years it had been there, silently mocking him and his blatant misery. Seeing it now in Jehan’s hands, he realized that what had once been a symbol for Enjolras’ undeniable presence in his every thought was now once again just a red mug.

When Jehan disappeared into the kitchen, Grantaire grabbed his guitar and sat down on the couch. He started to play a song he had written a while ago about finally being clean and let his thoughts wander.

After all these years of struggling, he finally felt free. He had let go of Enjolras and was finally ready to move on. Of course he still loved Enjolras, and who could blame him? Every mortal loves the sun and longs to be touched by the light. But he did not need him anymore, did not need his light to exist. Grantaire had found the light in himself - however faint it may be –and learned to shine on his own. He had learned to be his own guide in the darkness and that gave him the strength to move on.

His life was far from perfect, sure, but it was his own now. He didn’t have a job or a direction to move in. He used to like his job at the Symphony, but after all, he had only taken it to make Enjolras proud.

He remembered Eponine’s words. _Is there nothing you want for yourself?_ And if he was absolutely honest, there was one dream he never dared to pursue. Of course it was the crazy idea of a little boy, but he had managed to overcome his drug addiction and maintaining a healthy attitude towards alcohol. He had even put back together every single piece of his shattered heart. So how hard could it be to become a rock star? Well, maybe not a real rock star with all the frills, he intended to stay clean after all, but the musical part. He wanted to write and perform his own music and be able to lead a nice and decent life off it.

Strumming his guitar and singing his song, he vowed to himself that he’d at least try. He would build his own life now, doing what he wants, living as he pleases and eventually falling in love with a mere mortal like himself.

Sitting with his back towards the apartment door, he didn’t notice the blonde man opening it quietly and looking at him with loving blue eyes.

Content with the decisions he had reached, Grantaire let his song fade out and set his guitar down. Suddenly, he felt strong arms wrapping around him from behind and a tender kiss pressed on his temple. “I am so proud of you; you really have come a long way.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> The engding might seem a bit abrupt. That is because I started the second part (you might notice that the song is not finished yet) but I'm not sure if I'll ever finish it. Let me know what you think.
> 
> Other songs that inspired (and are more or less mentioned in) this fic:  
> Robert Duncan - I just want you  
> Gavin Mikhail - Back for me  
> Three Days Grace - Gone Forever


End file.
